Beatings in New York City
by ten81CSI
Summary: Sequel to the *Concept of Death* Logan Caine First person POV. T for now possible M later... WARNING cuss and later possible sexual content. P.S. you dont need to read the first to understand this!
1. Meet Logan

**_Hey guys. This is the sequel to my Miami story, the concept of death. If u read excellent. You'll notice i changed the year Speedle died, because it fits better in the timeline. Also I am sorry for the long wait, and I know i need to add my other chapters. My goal is to get that done by Wednesday. I have been super busy._**

**_Anyway ENJOY!!! and you don't need to read the other, though i would... You'll understand what is going on. It's easy to follow!!_**

**_RnR!! thanksss guys 3 !!!_**

I'd never actually fallen in love. I didn't think it would be the way it was when I did though. I never thought I wouldn't realize I had love until it was already gone. Until it was too late, until he was murdered.

It all happened so fast I couldn't even tell you what I was thinking as it did. I remember one minute we were smiling and the next, we were shooting at the bad guys, fighting for our lives. It was a war. And you have to win every war in this job. Because if you lose, you die. If you make one false move, you take the biggest risk ever. You endanger yourself. If you forget to clean your gun, and the one-day you don't you'll need it. He needed it, and it failed him.

He died in my arms on March 6th 2003. He came to me a few days later and told me everything would be all right, but I didn't think it would. Everything was falling apart. After I had Timothy Speedle's son I moved to New York City. I figured it would be a nice reset button. A nice way to start over, because everything in Miami reminded me of him.

When my son was born, I named him Timothy Dalton Speedle Jr. The most upsetting part was he looked just like his father. The same dark curly hair, same eyes, all the way down to the same crooked toes. I had moved away to get rid of the memories, but it seemed that with his son still with me, I could never get away.

Now that Timmy is five, I decided it would be okay for me to quit my job as a teacher and begin to work my way into law once again. I figured I would stop by the local Crime Lab and see if they needed a secretary for starts. Then slowly ease my way to lab tech., and then maybe get back into the field.

I should say; that's how I was planning. But when I met with Mac Taylor, the head of the Crime Lab, things turned out different. He sat me down at his desk and asked me a few questions. Of course I happily answered them.

"So you were a CSI in Miami?" He asked me. I slowly nod my head, and open my mouth to speak. But then I close it. I didn't know how to explain everything to him. He nodded his head and then spoke once more. "And you left for?"

"My…" I didn't know how to tell him.

But I close my eyes, and take a deep breath and then answer him. "Miami just didn't feel like home to raise a child." Detective Taylor nodded his head once more.

I counted to 15 before he spoke to me. "Why do you wish to be just a secretary, Logan? I think you are qualified to be a CSI once again."

"I think I am also." I smile. "But I have a five year old son, and I'm single."

"His father isn't in the picture?"

"He's…" I hesitated and Detective Taylor must have seen the color rush from my face. "He…"

"I understand." He said, nodding his head. "Is that why you left? Because you're husband passed away?"

"He wasn't my husband, but yes." I nodded. I blinked so that my tears wouldn't fall. I wanted to explain to him what happened but I couldn't. It still, after five years hurt me to speak about it.

"Do you think if I cut back your shifts you could make it work?" He asked me.

"I think that's a good deal." I agreed. He was meeting me half way, and that was more than I had expected. "When can I start?"

"How about now?" A woman with curly hair came in, a smile beaming on her face. "I'm Stella Bonasera. I've met you're brother before."

"Ugh." I smiled. "What's with him and beautiful women with curls?"

"I'll take that as a compliment." She smiled.

"It was." I laugh. "So, has Horatio told you all my dirty secrets then?"

"No. Just that you have a little boy named Timmy who I will be more than happy to help with any time you need it."

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." I smiled. "That boy is a demand child."

"All five year olds are." Stella smiled. "Come on. I'll show you around. She get a gun yet Mac?"

"Not until I clear it up with Gerard." Mac said.

"Alright." Stella smiled. I stood up and followed her out of Mac's office. We walked through the hall and I look around me, taking in a crime lab for the first time in years.

We stopped in front of two men and a woman. "Guys this is Logan Caine." Stella explained. "She's gonna be part of the team. Logan this is Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe, and Don Flack. Flack is our homicide detective along with Angell. You'll meet her later. But Messer and Lindsay are CSIs."

I smile at Lindsay, and eye Danny, but I stop at Flack. Something seems familiar about him. I looked at him and watched his face turn bright red.

"Nice to meet you, Caine." Flack said. He looked down at his feet.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Oh…" I said. "Nice to meet you guys. Lindsay I love your shoes."

"Thanks." Lindsay smiled. "I like you already."

"Logan is a very outgoing person." Stella agreed. Her cell phone went off and she answered it. A few seconds later she was nodding at Lindsay. "Angell has a case for us. Flack will you stay with Logan?" Before he could answer she was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We were left together in the break room. It was awkward, I won't lie.

"Are you married?" His face scrunched up as he asked.

"No." I responded. It wasn't like I was lying, because I wasn't. I just wasn't explaining the whole truth. But why did I feel so bad? Why did my stomach turn every time I didn't explain?

I decided I'd beat him at his own game. I smiled and then opened my mouth to speak. "The other night…" I started.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at his feet.

"It's fine. You were just reading my signals. I owe you an explanation." I said. I did owe him an explanation. I was flirting with him without the intention of leaving the bar with him.

_I thought I was ready to date, but when he whispered in my ear I panicked. His breath was warm and inviting against my neck, and his arm was set at the small of my back. "What do you say we get out of here?" He asked me._

_The smile was wiped from my face. I turned and spilled my drink all over him. "I…I…I have to go." I said, darting out of the bar._

"No you don't." Don said. "I shouldn't have asked you to leave with me."

"I haven't slept with anyone in five and a half years." I blurted. He finally looked up at me, and I could tell by his expression that he wanted me to explain. I was slowly learning that what he didn't say with his words, he spoke with his body language.

"What?" Was all he said at first. "A pretty woman like you?"

"It's more complicated than that." I smiled at his compliment. "I…I wanted to go home with you, but… I…I lost my boyfriend. He was a CSI also, and things got out of hand…"

"Was he killed on the job?" He asked me. I nodded my head.

"That's not all…" I sighed and then sat down. My face was hot and I felt sick to my stomach. "I've tried dating before… but never got past one date."

"Are you just not ready? Did you love him?"

"Yeah I did." I nodded. "But it seems when you tell a man you've got a son, they don't waste time at leaving you to pay the bill and run."

"So… you had a kid with this guy?" He asked me. He took a sip of the coffee that I failed to observe he made.

"His name's Tim." I said. "He's five." Don nodded his head.

"You could have told me." He said.

"I know the type." I said. "You aren't the type that sticks around when things start to get serious. I may not want something serious, but I need it. I've got a little boy I need to support, and me fooling around isn't helping him."

"The type?" Don chuckled. "I didn't know I was _the_ type."

"You don't want to settle down." I explained.

"If I found the right girl I would." He said.

"Hey guys." Lindsay smiled. She came into the break room with a smile plastered on her face. "Flack keeping you good company? Not hitting on you or anything?"

"Me hit on a woman?" Flack smiled. "Monroe what are you smoking?"

"He hit on you?" Lindsay asked me.

"Nope." I smiled. I stood up and yawned, and then stood up. My cell phone went off and I answered it without hesitation. "Caine." I said.

"Miss. Caine." The woman's voice on the other line sounded so familiar, even though it seemed frazzled at the same time. "Its Darlene Hatchet from the daycare."

"Oh hey Mrs. Hatchet." I said. "What's up?"

"There's been an accident. We need you to come to St. Mercy's hospital."

"Is Timmy alright?" I asked, closing my eyes to take a deep breath.

"No, he's not." She may not have realized it, but these three simple words crushed my heart even more than what I had been feeling.

My instinct was to start pacing while she explained to me what happened. A man who couldn't pay his daughter's way for daycare had aimed his gun at Mrs. Hatchet but hit Timmy who was wrapped around her neck. She wouldn't tell me more, like where he had been hit, which made my heart pound even more. My first thought was the worst. He was shot in the head.

"What's wrong?" Flack asked me as soon as I hung up the phone. His eyes were a different shade of blue now. More of a grayish color.

"Flack, do you mind picking up someone for me?" Mac asked walking into the break room. "Take Logan with you."

"Ugh..." I said, running my hand through my hair. "Mac…"

"Yes?" Mac asked. I couldn't look at him. I was just pacing over and over.

"Tim's been shot." I finally said.

"Take the lights Flack." Mac said and set a supporting hand on my shoulder. "Call us with details." He told me. I simply nodded my head, and then followed Flack into the parking garage.

XXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Of course it was raining. It had been raining when big Tim died. Of course it would be raining when little Tim was hurt.

I know it was selfish, but it was all I could think about. Tim in my arms before he died. It hurt. I wanted him so bad. He should have been here right now to help me through this. But he wasn't.

"Logan." Don said. I turned to look at him, and barely noticed his hand on my thigh. "What happened?"

"I don't know." I said. "Some parent came in and aimed for the head teacher but missed and hit Timmy." I said. "Damn it! This traffic sucks ass. When the fuck are we going to MOVE!"

"It's New York." Flack explained to me.

"Well New York blows." I said.

"Logan take a deep breathe. Just calm down." Flack said.

I began to laugh. "I can't calm down." I said. "I can't fucking calm down. My son was shot in the place he is supposed to be safest. It's raining. It's raining Don. I lost my boyfriend and it was raining. 6 years ago it was raining on this exact day and I lost him." I said. Tears rolled down my cheek as I started tapping my foot.

"I need my son. I need him to be okay."

"He will be." Flack told me. "He will be fine."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"I just do." He said.

About twenty seconds later Flack had parked in the parking lot of the hospital. I jumped out of the car just as fast as I did six years ago, and I ran into the E.R. There stood two officers, Mrs. Hatchet, and a few other teachers. I stood next to them and waited for someone to speak. Anyone. I needed to know Timmy was all right. But no one spoke.

"What happened?" I asked. There was no answer. "Some one needs to tell me everything right now. My son is hurt and I need to know what the hell happened to him."

"He was shot in the right shoulder, and possibly his neck. He's in surgery, we don't know much more. All we can do is wait, ma'am," a uniformed officer finally spoke.

I looked at Flack and then slowly sat down. "I'll go talk to a surgeon." Flack offered. I nodded my head and watched him walk off, as I helplessly waited for him to come back with some good news for my son.


	2. Meet Timmy

Disclaimer: Logan and Timmy are mine, but that is it.

Sorry it took so long I am sort of at a loss at what to do with this story. But here's Chapter 2:

* * *

Waiting in the hospital brought back so many horrible memories. The smell of death was lingering around my nose. The look of fear plastered on my face. I sat slouched in a chair, hiding my tears. I had been crying for the past hour, and the flashbacks were making my head spin. This flashback was different though. I don't know why but it just felt different.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them Tim Speedle Sr. was standing in front of me. His hair was mangled as it was the day he died, and his teeth sparkling white. He was barefoot. He wore dark jeans and a belt. His chest was bare, muscles bulging. He looked exactly the same as he did six years ago, besides the hole that was in his chest.

I reached out to touch him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words could explain what I was thinking at the moment.

"Under the seat of the motorcycle is some money. You're gonna need it." He said. I stood stunned. I didn't understand how I could use my imagination to make something like this up. It was insane. I was seeing a dead person. I was in _love_ with a dead person.

"I love you." He said and he disappeared from my sight. I had to get my mind off of what I just heard run through my head. There was no way there was money under the seat of his bike.

Danny showed up as if on cue, and I sighed in relief when he sat on the opposite side of me. The side Flack wasn't on. "Hear anything?" He asked.

Flack shook his head.

I turned and stared at Danny. "You got a motorcycle right?" I asked him.

He looked confused, but nodded his head. "Why?"

"No reason." I said, standing up. "I'm going to go see if the nurse at the desk can fill me in." I said, flashing a weak smile. I slowly walked towards the front desk, my mind spinning with how crazy I was to be imagining my dead boyfriend.

I reached the front desk and saw a smiling nurse beam at me. "How can I help you ma'am?" She asked me. I wanted to snap her neck for being so cheerful. But I resisted the temptation when I realized she had no reason to be upset. She didn't know my five year old son could possibly be dead, or that this was the sixth anniversary of his father's death. She had no reason to be as "emo" as I did.

"Yes my son Timothy Speedle was shot." I said. "Can you send someone out to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Speedle but if there was any info on your son you would know." The gitty bitch said.

"It's Miss Caine." I corrected. "And I have been waiting three hours for an update. Either you send someone out, or I'm going in."

"You can't go in." She smiled. I chuckled at her stupidity.

"Try me." I said. "If I haven't heard anything ten minutes from now, you will be sorry. And no. It's not a threat it's a warning." I walked away and noticed that Mac was now sitting beside Flack. Lindsay too, started to sit.

"Nothing." I say, and begin pacing.

Finally a doctor came out in scrubs. He approached me, and I could tell he was petrified of me. The nurse probably told him I was a psychotic woman with a gun.

"Miss Caine" His voice shook as he spoke to me.

I nodded my head. "Just out of curiosity. How long were you planning on keeping me in the dark about my son?"

No answer.

"Do you do that to all of your patients' families, sir?" I could tell he was shaking. "Because last I checked, my son was shot and I should be updated every twenty minutes. It has been three hours. Do you understand that for three hours I have been agonizing over the fact you more than likely fucked up and killed him?"

"I…" He had no clue what to say. "No I don't ma'am."

I sat back down; feeling like my temper was slipping from me.

"Ma'am, your son is alive. He is in recovery now. He was shot in his arm, no major arteries were hit. He's lost some blood, but he'll be fine shortly. You'll be able to see him soon, Ms. Caine."

"Logan." I said, biting my lip. "I apologize for being rude." I couldn't look at him.

"If you'll excuse me, I have another patient," He said leaving Mac, Flack, Danny, Lindsay, and myself.

"That was bitchy." Danny said.

"I apologized." I said, defensively.

I had held in all of my anger all day long. I was usually good at controlling my anger, but it slipped when that doctor stood in front of me. It was like all my fears in the world were in the hands of that man. I had no control what so ever. It was out of my hands. I was taught that anger was mostly triggered when a person has no control over what was happening in a situation, sort of like right now.

"Apologies make everything better." He half chuckled half mumbled under his breath.

"I'll just pretend like I didn't hear that." I said. Flack was giving Danny a dirty look. It's hard to explain, but his eyebrows were scrunched, and his eyes were squinted.

"Miss Caine." A voice spoke from behind me. I turned in my chair, and saw a familiar face smiling back at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Umm." I laughed. "Alexx, you're the one who's supposed to be in Miami, I'm the one who should be asking you what you're doing here."

"I mean in the hospital. You are the cop not the doctor."

"Timmy."

"Timmy?" She asked. "Oh my God! You had a boy!" She ran towards me and sat down beside me, squeezing me to death. "What's he like? Is he smart? Does he look more like you or Timothy?"

"He looks just like Tim. He starts first grade next year."

"Baby, it's been years. Oh my God. Why are you here? Is he okay?"

"He was shot. The doctor said he'd be fine though." I said, clearing my throat.

"Oh, sweetie." She sighed, squeezing me again. "I'll be right back, okay. I'm going to go see if I can get any updates for you, sweetie."

"Thanks." I whispered. I let out a dramatic sigh and watched her walk away.

"You look tired." Flack said. "You should get some rest."

"I'm good." I lied, standing up when I saw Alexx come back so quickly. "That was fast."

"Come on back with me." She smiled. I nodded my head, and to my surprise Mac stood up to follow me. We entered an elevator and I started to sweat.

"How many floors is he?"

"7th." Alexx said. "You'll be okay sweetie."

"Yeah, I'm just gonna barf all over you, okay?" She laughed at my stupidity.

"Don't like elevators?" Mac asked me.

"I have an elevator phobia." I swallowed. "Oh shit." I cried. "It stopped, why did it stop? Alexx are we gonna die?"

"Sweetie, its just people getting on." Alexx explained. Three people climbed on board with us and my heart began pounding even harder.

"Two more floors." I heard Mac say. I wasn't paying attention anymore; I had my eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly the doors opened and I bolted out of the elevator.

"You made it." Alexx cheered.

"No" I said "Bag."

She pulled out a paper bag and handed it to me, as if she knew I was going to throw up when we got off, and I did. I filled that whole bag up with throw up, and I didn't hesitate to hand her back the bag, which she took and threw away for me without a problem. She had done this many times before when I was forced by Tim to use the elevator to go see her.

"Remember the last time I did this for you?" She laughed.

"Ugh. Tim forced me into the elevator and said I needed to get over my fears."

"And I helped you get him back by letting you borrow my cat."

"He shit his pants." I laughed.

We stopped in front of a door that read Speedle, and my smile wiped off my face. I opened the door, and saw my baby lying in a bed, with wires coming from every direction.

"Hi Mommy." He smiled. I sat next to him, and kissed his cheek.

"Hey baby." I said. "How are you feeling?"

I couldn't look anywhere but his face The wires and tubes and machines made it to painful to watch him. I knew he was in pain, even if he didn't admit it to me.

"My arm hurts, but that's it. Can we go home?" He asked.

"I wish, baby. You have to stay a few days."

"Did they catch the bad guy?"

"Yeah, they did." I smiled, and brushed his hair from his face. Mac sat next to me, and Timmy stared at him.

"Who are you?" Tim asked him.

"I'm Mac." Mac said.

"Hi." Timmy said, and then turned back to me. "Will you sing?"

"Sure." I said. "What do you want me to sing?"

"I've got you babe!" He cheered.

"Okay, are you going to help me?" I asked and he nodded his head.

"They say we're young and we don't know. We won't find out until we grow." I started out.

"Well I don't know if all that's true, cause you got me, and baby I got you! Babe." Timmy sang, giggling the whole time.

"I got you babe. I got you babe." We started together.

It was surprising a five year old knew every word to a song written before I was even born, but I had sung it to him ever since he was born. Tim had used to sing it to me.

Timmy had finally fallen asleep, which in turn had me fall asleep on Mac's shoulder.


End file.
